


Do I Wanna Know?

by AfraidOfBananas



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: AFTG Mixtape Exchange 2021, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, I’ve been through so many different title ideas but none of them worked so here we are, M/M, Pining, Renee and Matt show up very briefly, There are sex scenes, but they’re pretty tame
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-11 23:53:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29126025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AfraidOfBananas/pseuds/AfraidOfBananas
Summary: ”It’s like Schrödinger’s Cat; If you open the box, you’ll find that the cat is either dead or alive. But as long as you keep the box closed, then the cat is both dead and alive at the same time because you don’t know the actual truth of what’s inside. Andrew could just ask Neil where they stand with each other, but Andrew’s not sure if he wants to hear the answer. What if Neil rejects him? As cliched as it sounds, Andrew doesn’t think he could handle that. Neil is the first person that Andrew had made a place for in his life after finding Nicky and Aaron. Andrew can’t imagine losing that.So he’ll keep his thoughts to himself and lock the box tighter.”
Relationships: Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard
Comments: 34
Kudos: 238
Collections: AFTG Mixtape Exchange 2021





	Do I Wanna Know?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Moth2Flame](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moth2Flame/gifts).



> A couple things I want to say:
> 
> 1) Somehow I had never heard this song before??? Which is a damn shame because this song is a banger
> 
> 2) I don’t think the vibes match up AT ALL with the songs after the first scene, but I tried to center the plot with the underlying message of the lyrics, so hopefully the connection is recognizable
> 
> 3) I SWEAR this was finished on the 31st, but ao3 messed up my formatting because of the app I wrote this on, so I just spent the past two and a half hours painstakingly deleting over 500,000 characters that was literally just “< i >” over and over again so now it’s 2:00am on the 1st oh well (this is also why the formatting on the months looks kind of weird)
> 
> 4) I got the song assignment a little late because I was a pinch hitter, and then every prior commitment in my life suddenly converged on me all at the same time. So if the writing/plot feels scatterbrained, it’s because my head was being pulled in eight different directions :)
> 
> 5) ANYWAY I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> ***UPDATE*** In my frustration over the botched formatting, I completely forgot to say that this was inspired by the song “Do I Wanna Know?” by the Arctic Monkeys!

**JANUARY ******

********

********

Some might call it a hunt. A chase. One person scoping out the mass of writhing bodies for tonight’s prey, followed by the intricate dance of eye contact and meaningful looks.

It all sounds so carnal.

Andrew prefers to call it a game. An equal match with both players on the same level. It isn’t Andrew’s job to seek someone out and encourage them to do anything. No, he knows exactly what he’s looking for, and it’s someone who wants the exact same thing that he does.

So Andrew isn’t quite sure what draws him to the bar in the first place.

He’s already had two whiskeys—his regular warm-up—and should be “on the prowl” so to speak, looking for a stranger who’s looking right back.

Well, he’s found a stranger all right. Andrew is positive that he’s never seen this man before. Even without the eidetic memory, he would never forget a face like that, all pretty and pouty. The man is sitting alone at the bar, sulking into a glass of something clear and appears to be scrutinizing a laminated sheet of paper. His red curls flash different colors every now again under the strobing lights extending their reach all the way from the dance floor. Andrew can only see the man’s side profile, and yet he’s entranced.

So Andrew does something he never expected himself to do: he deviates from routine. Instead of sitting in a booth scanning his eyes back and forth, instead of nodding his head from a stranger to the door, instead of blowing someone in the alley and driving home alone like every other Friday night when he comes here, Andrew heads back over to the bar.

This isn’t his usual plan of attack, and Andrew’s not sure how forward he should be with this man. Is eye contact enough? Perhaps a direct proposition? In the end, Andrew decides to play it safe by sitting one stool away from the man, close enough to make conversation, but far enough to fell aloof.

Not that aloof is really his style. But hey, he can try new things sometimes.

As Andrew takes his seat, he immediately catches the attention of Roland, who inclines his head in the man’s direction. Andrew flicks his gaze over for a moment, but when he looks back Roland is shaking his head solemnly. Andrew frowns at him, confused. _Is that supposed to be a warning? _Roland usually has a good understanding of every one of Eden’s patrons, so maybe he knows something that Andrew doesn’t. Maybe Andrew isn’t this guy’s type. It’s happened before, and Andrew has long since learned not to take it to heart. If this guys isn’t interested, then Andrew won’t push him. He hates challenges, they’re not his job to overcome. But surely the man is interested in _something. _Eden’s has a very specific clientele. Everyone is here to get drunk, get high, or get fucked. Sometimes all three. So is this man really so untouchable that even Roland would advise against it? Now Andrew is curious. Now he needs to know.____

_____ _

_____ _

Because he does hate challenges.

But he loves a good puzzle.

The man either doesn’t notice Andrew or deliberately ignores him. Either way, he doesn’t look up from his careful perusal of what Andrew can now see is some sort of menu. Which is weird, because although Roland is an admittedly skilled bartender, most people order simple alcohol. Whiskey, vodka, rum, gin, tequila, beer. Rarely has Andrew overheard anyone order a drink with more than one ingredient.

Andrew is pretty blatantly staring—aloof is _really _not his style—so he decides to bite the bullet and ask, “Looking for something to dilute your vodka?”__

____

____

Redhead glances over for the first time with a perplexed face. Andrew gestures to the clear liquid in his glass, and understanding breaks out cold and clear across his features.

“Oh, this isn’t—it’s not—“ Redhead stammers before letting out a controlled breath. He holds up the glass for Andrew to see, as if that will do anything, and explains, “It’s just water. I don’t drink.”

Andrew just raises one eyebrow and reaches over to tap on the menu that Redhead is still holding.

Redhead sighs dramatically and rolls his eyes, a small smirk playing across his lips. “I don’t drink often,” he amends. “But it’s easier to just say I don’t do it at all instead of explaining. Plus it usually keeps people from buying me drinks.”

Is that a hint? It sounds like a hint. Like maybe this guy doesn’t want Andrew to buy him a drink, and maybe Andrew should take the hint and walk away.

Instead, Andrew can’t help but ask, “So what’s the special occasion then?”

“Ah.” Redhead averts his eyes back to the menu. “My best friend got engaged today. To my other best friend. So third-wheeling is an art that I’m about to be very skilled at.” He smiles ruefully, but there’s no malice in his eyes. “I’m happy for them, really. But I kind of want to get drunk and just not think about it for the night.”

“Wouldn’t straight alcohol do a better job?”

“If I’m going to pay for a drink that will weaken my brain function, I want it to at least taste good.”

Before Andrew can respond, Roland comes over and leans across the bar to ask, “So, anything sound good?

Redhead squints at the menu a bit. “Uhhh...”

“Get him a Screwdriver,” Andrew says before he can stop himself. Both men turn to look at him, but Andrew merely shrugs. “It’s simple. Only two ingredients. Plus it’ll get you drunk faster so you won’t buy as many.”

Roland takes the menu back and gets to work making the drink behind the counter while Redhead looks at Andrew with a quizzical expression. Andrew ignores him because he’s trying to be _aloof, _goddamnit. But when Roland slides the finished drink over to Redhead, he hesitates.__

____

____

“What’s in it?”

“Try it first. Then I’ll tell you.”

So he does. Redhead lifts glass to his lips and takes a sip, before setting it back down quickly on the countertop and making a strange face. His jaws open wide, and his tongue sticks out as he retracts his chin into his neck.

“That bad?” Andrew asks. He doesn’t consider it to be a great drink by most people’s standards, but a Screwdriver seemed like a safe bet for someone who doesn’t drink. Or so he thought.

Redhead recovers quickly, shaking his head as he says, “No, it’s not bad. I just wasn’t expecting it to be so strong.”

“It’s vodka,” Roland tells him, smirking at his reaction.

“Vodka and orange juice,” Andrew adds.

Redhead looks thoughtful for a moment while he lifts the glass again. “Ah. That’s why it tastes familiar.” He takes another swig and makes the same face as before, although it’s a little more subdued this time around. Andrew is slightly alarmed to realize that he finds it _cute. ___

____

____

“I didn’t catch your name,” Andrew says as Roland walks away to help another person.

Redhead doesn’t even hesitate. “That’s because I didn’t give it.”

It’s enough to shut Andrew up for a second. Redhead cuts his eyes over to Andrew’s face, and the two of them stare each other down. His eyes are almost aggressively blue, and the scars splattered across his cheeks gleam in the distant pulsing lights.

After a moment that lingers much too long, Andrew decides to cave first, if only to get answers. “Andrew.”

Redhead lifts the glass to his lips again, and just before taking a sip he says, “Neil.”

_Neil. ___

____

____

Huh.

“Well Neil,” Andrew says, lifting his own drink that Roland has already placed before him on the bar top, “here’s to not thinking.”

Neil clinks their glasses together with a small curve to his lips, and the two of them eye each other over the rims as they both drink.

********

********

**FEBRUARY ******

********

****

Andrew feels silly in his getup tonight, which is strange for him. He only ever wears clothes that make him feel confident, but that’s not the issue tonight. No, Andrew feels silly for dressing up at all.

Because he knows he’s not going to hook up with anyone tonight.

He hasn’t even seen another man’s dick in two weeks, and hasn’t touched one in four. It just hasn’t felt _right _the past couple times he’s tried to get off with a stranger at Eden’s, and although he feels disturbingly similar to a blushing virgin waiting for _the one, _Andrew won’t press the issue. He’ll never put himself in a sexual situation that feels wrong in any way. God knows he’s had too many sessions with Bee to hold onto that particular self-destructive habit.____

_____ _

_____ _

So yeah, Andrew feels a little ridiculous dressing up in his normal clubbing attire when he knows damn well that he’s going to walk into Eden’s, sit down at the bar, and talk with Neil about nothing important until he eventually drives home unsatisfied. Well, sexually, at least. He’s plenty satisfied with his conversation with Neil. It’s probably the reason he loses track of time, sometimes sitting with Neil for hours chatting about anything and everything before Roland reminds them that he has to close soon. Andrew doesn’t enjoy arriving home at 3:00 am after the hour drive back, but it’s a sacrifice he’s willing to make. And honestly, he almost prefers it to his previous routine of driving home at midnight after blowing some guy in the bathroom, which he’s definitely not doing now.

Because it became painfully obvious about thirty minutes into their first conversation that Neil doesn’t come to Eden’s to hook up. Their talking never strayed into sexual territory, and Neil brushed off every single pass anyone made at him. Apparently, he only knew about the place because his friend Matt—the one getting married—took him there once to celebrate some promotion or something. So when he wanted to get drunk, he came to the only place he knew the name of: Eden’s.

Not that Neil really got drunk that night. He finished his first Screwdriver and half of his second before he cut himself off, mumbling some excuse about not wanting to lose himself. Andrew thinks he understands the concern in a way, although his alcohol tolerance is much higher than Neil’s must be.

Andrew was surprised to see Neil sitting at the bar when he walked into Eden’s the following Friday just like he always does. Neil seemed a little surprised at himself too when Andrew asked him about it. He said that Matt was on a date with his fiancé, so he decided to come back here and ignore whatever he might have been thinking about otherwise. Andrew couldn’t help sitting next to him at the bar again and taking pity on his disgruntled expression as he stared at the menu once again.

When he asked Roland about it later, he told Andrew that it’s the only menu they have, and Neil was the first person to ask for it in at least two years.

Neil had explained that he wanted something new, so Andrew chose a new drink for him to try, this time a Manhattan. Neil had made the same dumb face as he had the week prior, but he ultimately drained the entire glass before switching to water. The two of them sat there and talked until Neil eventually left a few hours later. Andrew slinked off to the back alley with a tall stranger to at least try and stick to his normal routine.

It stopped working after that. The more Andrew sat with Neil, the less inclined he felt to find other men afterwards. Not to mention Neil started staying later into the night each time, until Roland was eventually kicking them out every Saturday morning.

Now that’s their new routine. They meet at the bar every Friday night, Andrew chooses a random drink for Neil to try, and they talk well into the early hours when they should be at home asleep. It’s been six weeks since that first night, but it almost feels like longer.

And when Andrew walks into Eden’s tonight, he knows exactly what drink he’ll choose. Neil confessed last week that he typically likes the fruitier mixes, so Andrew is ready to introduce him to the wonders of a classic Cosmopolitan.

Just like always, Neil makes that face again at the first sip, and Andrew is starting to admit to himself that he actually finds it endearing. Only this time, when Neil finishes his drink he turns to Andrew and looks at him intently, eyes focused but lips slightly upturned in amusement.

“What are we doing here, Andrew?”

The question surprises him, but Andrew answers it honestly. “Drinking and debating the practicality of keychains.”

Neil’s smile only grows. “No,” he clarifies. “I mean what are we really doing here? Every week you walk in here dressed like _that, _clearly looking for something specific, and yet you choose to sit here with me instead.” It’s not phrased or spoken like a question, but Neil is clearly looking for an answer.__

____

____

But Andrew doesn’t _know. _He doesn’t know why he does it. Doesn’t know why he feels so disinterested in hooking up with other people recently, doesn’t know why he still bothers coming every week, doesn’t know, doesn’t know, _doesn’t know. _____

_____ _

_____ _

But...

“All I know,” Andrew starts, because he always tells the truth, “is that I like talking to you.”

“Just talking?”

Andrew chokes a little on his whiskey and tries extremely hard not to show it. The question catches him off guard. He was expecting Neil to point out his lack of sexual exploits, perhaps even tease him about it. But Neil is smirking right now like he knows exactly what he’s doing.

“The drinks aren’t bad,” he concedes, because he’s too out of his element to properly test the waters.

Except Neil seems more than ready to make waves when he asks, “Nothing else?”

Andrew falls quiet for a few moments, measuring the weight of those words. Every sentence out of Neil’s mouth right now is setting him on edge, but not necessarily in a bad way. Finally, he decides to bite the bullet and assume they’re both on the same page in this conversation. “I thought you don’t want anything else,” he ventures carefully.

“I didn’t.”

Andrew quirks an eyebrow. “Past tense?”

Neil nods. “Past tense.”

The silence hangs heavy around them as they both lock gazes and each take a long gulp of their respective drinks. It’s practically synchronized, and Andrew might laugh if he wasn’t so focused on keeping all of his blood from rushing south.

The thing is, Andrew can pretend all he likes. Pretend he feels distant, pretend he doesn’t understand why other men don’t interest him anymore. Because the key word there is _other. Other _men. _Other _men that aren’t Neil. He’ll never push Neil on the matter of course, since it’s clearly not an option. Honestly, the whole situation reminds him of the cheesecake they serve at the outrageously expensive steakhouse around the corner. Nicky ate there once, took pictures of the dessert and raved about it for days. Andrew knows he’ll never actually eat the thing, but just knowing that the best cheesecake is out there makes the others at his disposal pale in comparison.____

_____ _

_____ _

Except now the best cheesecake looks like it’s on the verge of handing him a fork. Neil’s smile droops into something more serious, but his eyes still shine with purpose as he says, “I don’t often feel this way about people. But I like talking to you. And you’re really attractive.” He says the last part like an add-on, like it was a stray thought he didn’t mean to speak aloud. And hearing this pretty boy call _Andrew _attractive?__

____

____

Well, that’s a major stroke to his ego that he’ll ignore for now.

“What do you want?” He asks instead.

“Whatever you’re willing to offer.”

Damn if that’s not an invitation.

So Andrew drains the rest of his glass and rises from his seat, Neil quickly following suit. The two of them walk side-by-side across the club and down a hallway to the storage room. Neil hesitates at the door.

“Are we allowed back here?”

“Yes,” Andrew replies. It’s technically the truth, since Roland said he can always use it for this purpose if he wanted to. But Andrew doesn’t usually bring people to this room because he hates cleaning up the mess afterwards. If he gets someone off in the alley, he doesn’t have to worry about that, and Andrew is quick enough that the cold doesn’t bother him too much in the winter months. This time is different, though. This is _Neil, _and Andrew plans on savoring this experience. So he explains, “I used to work here before college.”__

____

____

Neil makes a surprised face. “You worked here as a teenager?”

“Yes, and?” Andrew really isn’t in the mood for any lectures about his lifestyle choices. He’s gotten enough from Nicky to last him a lifetime.

“Nothing, I’m just impressed you had such a well-paying job so young.” It would sound condescending from literally anyone else, but coming from Neil, the words actually sound genuine.

“Come on.” Andrew pulls him into the room by his wrist before immediately closing the door and crowding Neil against it. “Hands to yourself,” he instructs Neil, who immediately clasps his hands behind his back. It’s a surprising gesture because Andrew usually has to reiterate the point two or more times before people pay attention, but at least he knows Neil can follow directions. He reaches his hands up to cup either side of Neil’s face, leans in close to breathe against his lips, and whispers, “Yes or no?”

“Yes.”

Andrew kisses him.

In all honesty, it’s pretty weird at first. Not bad, no definitely not bad, not at all. It’s just so _different _from what Andrew is used to that it takes him a bit to get used to. Andrew usually has to fight for dominance in a kiss with strangers, clashing teeth and biting lips. But when he presses their mouths together, Neil practically melts. He follows Andrew’s lead completely, parting his lips so Andrew can sweep his tongue inside and tilting his head so Andrew can deepen the kiss.__

____

____

They make out like that for a while, partially so Andrew can test Neil’s self-restraint and partially because it just feels _good. _Kissing is so often a means to an end for Andrew. Sometimes he skips it altogether and just goes straight for the belt buckle. But with Neil, it’s actually nice. Sweet. Satisfying in a way it never has been until now.__

____

____

When Neil starts panting more than actually kissing, Andrew decides that he really wants more. Wants Neil to do more than just pant for him. Wants to see how Neil will react to more than just kissing.

He drops to his knees and unzips Neil’s jeans before hooking his fingers in Neil’s belt loops. “Yes or no?”

Neil’s eyes are half lidded as he gazes down at Andrew. “Yes.”

Andrew pulls down his jeans and underwear in one motion and takes swallows Neil’s cock whole.

“Fuck, oh my god, wait! Wait, wait, holy shit! Oh my god, oh my god...”

Andrew is already back on his feet and standing halfway across the room by the time the third “wait” leaves Neil’s mouth. His brain is reeling. Did he do something wrong? Was he not clear enough about his intentions a second ago? Should he have asked for a yes more times than he did?

“Are you okay? Did...did I...did you not want....?” God, he sounds like a dumb teenager with the way he’s stammering, but he can’t get the right words out in the right order. He feels like his chest is constricting, tightening like a vice grip around his lungs, compressing his ribs until they’re sure to puncture something vital.

“No, no, it’s not your fault! I was just surprised.” Neil sounds possibly even more frazzled than Andrew with his chest heaving as he takes big gulping breaths.

Maybe they’re both drowning.

Neil is still reassuring him, “You didn’t do anything wrong, I just—“ He cuts himself off before dragging his hands down his face and groaning painfully. “Okay fine. Fine.” He takes a deep breath. “Full disclosure, I’ve never done this before.”

The cogs in Andrew’s brain grind to a halt so quickly it leaves him feeling more disoriented than he did a second ago. “What?”

“I mean, I’ve been with people before and kissed them and stuff. But I’ve never...we didn’t...I mean I’ve never—“

“Had your cock sucked?” Andrew cuts him off.

And _wooooow. _Neil blushes hard at that, his entire face turning the same shade as his hair. “Why do you have to say it so bluntly?” He asks, beyond flustered.__

____

____

Andrew merely shrugs. He’s never been ashamed, and cutting straight to the point helps settle his nerves more than social niceties. “So, you’re alright?”

Neil hides his face behind his hands, which is unfortunate because Andrew was enjoying his embarrassed expression. It was actually kind of cute and surprisingly reassuring in a strange way. “Yeah. Yeah I’m fine. I just...” He hesitates. “I just didn’t expect it to feel so good.”

Okay, so that really shouldn’t send a thrill though Andrew’s body, but it totally does anyway because Andrew made Neil feel good. And he wants to do it again.

Crossing the room and dropping back to his knees, Andrew looks up at Neil once more and asks, “Do you want me to continue?”

Neil finally lets his hands fall away from his face, exposing the gorgeous flush still staining his cheeks. “Fuck, yes.”

This time when Andrew sucks him down, Neil’s moan inspires more than enough confidence for the time being.

********

********

**MARCH ******

********

****

This is a first for them.

They had talked about it beforehand, of course. Otherwise Andrew wouldn’t have come prepared, since he never brings lube to Eden’s on a normal night. But it’s also a first because Andrew has never done this to anyone, and Neil has never had it done to him.

So here they are: doing it together.

“Still good?” Andrew asks.

Neil seems to struggle to form a coherent sentence as Andrew scissors his fingers again, so he just nods. But Andrew isn’t going to keep two fingers plunged into Neil’s ass without a verbal response.

“Neil.”

“Yes Andrew, _god keep going.”_

__

__

Andrew smirks at how breathless Neil’s voice sounds. Andrew has never put much stock in the idea of virginity, but he can’t deny that the way Neil reacts to everything is incredibly endearing. He has no frame of reference for pleasure like this, so every twist of Andrew’s fingers makes him whimper and sends him scrabbling for purchase on the wet countertop. He’s bent over the bathroom sink—because Roland wouldn’t let them use the storage room tonight—and Andrew can see his face in the mirror. See the way his brows furrow like he doesn’t understand what he’s feeling. See the way his jaw hangs loose as his breath comes in gasping pants. See the way his cheeks are gorgeously flushed.

Neil is so pretty.

Thrusting his fingers in deeper, Andrew finally hits that spot inside Neil that should make him see stars. Although, perhaps it’s _too _overwhelming because Neil’s hands go flying across the counter in an effort to hold on, but a particular patch of standing water near the basin makes his grip on the marble slip. With nothing to lean on, gravity drags Neil down until he’s bent in half in a toe-touch position with his hands braced on the dirty bathroom floor. Only Andrew’s hand on his waist and fingers in his ass keep his lower body in place.__

____

____

Andrew is afraid to move lest he startle Neil even more. So the two of them stay there, completely still and silent except for the quick rise and fall of Neil’s back.

“Neil, are you okay?”

Grunting softly, Neil reaches one hand up to grab the counter and the other extends back to Andrew, who grabs it with his own and helps Neil stand up fully once more. Their gazes lock on each other in the mirror, and Neil’s eyes look _wild. ___

____

____

>“That was simultaneously the most satisfying and harrowing moment of my entire life. Which is _really _saying a lot.” Neil takes a few deep breaths before continuing, “I have no idea what you just did, but I think you should do it again.”__

____

____

Andrew lets the words sink in, lets the relief that Neil is okay permeate fully through to his pounding heart. Then he presses his chest to Neil’s back and wraps an arm around his waist to pull him even closer. Even though their shirts the heat feels unbearable in the best way.

“I suggest you find something more reliable to hold on to,” Andrew whispers into his ear. “Because you’re going to need it.”

**APRIL ******

********

********

Andrew has only been sitting at the bar for six minutes and he’s already positive that Neil is sick. It’s probably nothing contagious, but he won’t stop sniffling, and his voice sounds different than usual, more nasally from congestion.

“Neil. I know you’re sick.”

“No I’m not,” Neil says, but it doesn’t sound particularly convincing when he sneezes immediately after.

They’ve shared a lot with each other in the past three months and two weeks. Not just physically, but emotionally too. Neil has told him the rough overview of his past and some of the shit he’s had to go through, so Andrew doesn’t know if Neil is lying or he genuinely doesn’t consider himself “sick” unless he’s too feverish to move.

“I’m not going to kiss you when you’re so obviously contagious.”

“You don’t have to kiss me.” Neil waggles his eyebrows suggestively and adds, “We could do _other stuff.” ___

____

____

It’s a weak argument, so Andrew decides to poke at it. “Why would you even come here tonight if you’re sick?”

“I didn’t want you to worry if I didn’t show up.” The words hit Andrew like a brick and lodge uncomfortably in his sternum, a heavy weight that threatens to cave him in on top of himself. Neil says it so easily, so assuredly, like he knows for a fact that Andrew would worry. And it’s so much worse because he’s right. If Neil hadn’t shown up, Andrew most certainly wouldn’t have been able to sleep tonight, too busy thinking of all the possible tragedies that may have befallen Neil and prevented him from coming.

But Andrew isn’t ready to acknowledge that, so he just shrugs and says, “Why would I worry about a stranger?”

Neil freezes with his water glass halfway to his mouth, and even Andrew can admit the words came out much harsher than intended. Are they strangers? They’ve been hooking up for months now, they’ve been talking for longer, and they’ve become exceedingly closer than Andrew ever would have thought possible. He knows Neil’s father. Neil knows about the foster homes. It’s all a lot scarier than it probably should be.

Because there’s clearly something between them, Andrew likes the way it feels, but he hates what it means.

After an abnormally long silence, Neil stands up from the barstool. “I don’t know. Why do you keep coming back for one every week?”

He turns to leave, and Andrew almost lets him go. He really should. He really should let Neil walk away and dissolve whatever weird tension Andrew is housing in his muscles. But Andrew reaches out to grab him anyway, circling his wrist loosely but firmly before asking an age old way of moving past a situation. “Yes or no?”

Neil actually looks like he’s contemplating it for a moment before he finally opens his mouth and says, “Yes.”

Andrew tightens his grip on Neil’s wrist and uses it to spin Neil around and pull him backwards in between his legs. The barstool is tall enough that Andrew’s feet can’t reach the floor, and even Neil’s extra three inches aren’t terribly helpful, so he just leans back enough to rest his ass against the edge of the seat. He’s clearly surprised by the gesture and reaches to grab Andrew’s thighs to steady himself, but he catches himself before contact is made, hands hovering a few inches in the air.

Andrew doesn’t want to think about how much he appreciates the gesture, so he focuses instead on moving forward with the moment. He reaches for Neil’s hands and presses them down until the palms are resting flat on Andrew’s thighs, one on each side of his waist, bracketing him into Andrew’s personal space. “What ‘other things’ did you have in mind?”

**MAY ******

********

****

********

“Good thing Matt just bought more laundry detergent.”

Andrew turns his head to look at Neil and follows his gaze down to the ruined bedsheets below them. They’re stained with come and lube, and the pillow has drool on it from where Neil was biting it earlier as Andrew thrust into him from behind.

“It’ll wash out,” Andrew says as he returns his gaze to the ceiling. It’s too hard to look directly at Neil right now, while he’s still in that post-orgasm haze. His lips are quirked in a satisfied half-smile, and his eyeslids are drooping dangerously low as his body sinks into the mattress.

Which is definitely new. Not only has Andrew never fucked anyone before tonight, but he’s also never hooked up with someone anywhere other than Eden’s before, let alone in an actual bed. Although can you really call it a bed when it’s really just a mattress on the floor in the corner of a room? When Andrew asked earlier, Neil had explained that Matt—his roommate and best friend—had broken the frame when he jumped on the bed one morning two weeks ago to wake Neil up for work, and they haven’t found a replacement yet.

This is how Andrew also learned that Neil works at the local art gallery as a security guard. The same art gallery Nicky has been trying to drag him too to see the new fashion exhibition for the last month and a half.

Small world.

He’s actually learned quite a bit about Neil by coming to his apartment for the first time. Matt must like to take photos, because the walls are covered in framed portraits, and the fried is littered with cut-out printed pictures. Half of them are of an absurdly muscular man—Matt, Neil informed him—with a beautiful girl at his side—probably his fiancé. But there are several featuring Neil as well. Neil and Matt standing in front of the apartment complex, arms laden with moving boxes. Matt with an arm thrown around Neil’s shoulders, roping him into a mirror selfie at the gym post-workout. Neil, Matt, and the fiancé all standing together in front of Niagara Falls. It’s an interesting feeling to look into Neil’s life in this way. It’s one thing for Andrew to talk to Neil and have intimate conversations with him, but it’s another thing to observe his day-to-day life in such a blatant way.

It makes Andrew’s heart race.

Which, as much as he hates to admit it, scares him. Because with each passing week, Andrew finds himself becoming more and more attached to Neil. He can’t even blame it on anything but his heart because the sexual intimacy is great, but it hasn’t really been his motivation since that first night they met at the bar. He’ll never say it because he refuses to sound like a pining teenager, but Andrew is starting to realize that he has _feelings _for Neil. And yeah. That definitely scares him.__

____

____

Why? Well, they’re just two people who met in a club hooking up regularly because they can rely on each other. At least that’s the way Neil must view their relationship, and it’s also the way Andrew has been outwardly treating it. Could they even be called friends with benefits? You probably have to be friends to earn that label.

The fact of the matter is: They don’t text, they don’t hang out, they don’t even see each other except for on Friday nights. Now Andrew has been to Neil’s apartment, and he feels like he’s intruding on something private that he wasn’t officially granted access to. So when Neil rolls over and starts snoring steadily—which is unfairly adorable in it’s own weird way—Andrew slips out of bed, slips into his clothes, and slips out of the apartment.

**JUNE ******

********

****

********

They don’t go to Andrew’s place very often, but he’s glad they came here tonight.

Who knew Neil would scream so loud when someone licks his asshole? Certainly not Andrew.

But fate must be on their side, because Neil is moaning and crying out emphatically with every broad stroke of Andrew’s tongue, and he definitely would have woken the neighbors with the shout he lets loose as he comes if they were at his apartment right now. Good thing they’re not.

But after they bask in the afterglow for a while, tangled together on Andrew’s bed, Neil stands up and starts pulling on his discarded clothes, and reality crashes back in around Andrew. Because that’s just what they do: Leave. They never spend the night. Even when they finally finish well into the morning, one of them always lets themself out, like Cinderella running from the ball. Andrew likes to pretend the only reason they do this is because he set a precedent that first night when he left Neil’s apartment after he fell asleep. And then continued to leave every time after that. But Andrew is nothing if not logical, and he knows that the real reason they don’t stay over must be that fuckbuddies don’t do that. “Friends with benefits” still sounds like a misnomer, but they’re far past the point of “casual hook-up” by now.

Or maybe they’re not. Maybe that’s what this is after all, because Andrew has certainly never made any moves to indicate otherwise, and neither has Neil.They’ve begun meeting up more frequently, not just on Fridays, but on Tuesdays too since it’s the only night of the week they’re both free. They still talk for hours before any clothes come off, but they no longer go to Eden’s. Now they just meet up at each other’s places without wasting an hour drive’s worth of gas. Neil lost focus on the cocktail mission pretty quickly after their first kiss, so there’s really no reason to keep using Eden’s as a rendezvous point.

Only now Andrew gets to see Neil twice a week, which is truly a blessing in disguise. He enjoys meeting up with Neil, talking to Neil, fucking Neil into the mattress. Truly a simple man with simple needs.

But this added exposure makes the days in between nearly impossible to get through. However loath he is to admit it, Andrew _really likes _Neil, and he wants to spend time with him more often than not. He sometimes finds himself trapped in a precarious position of his own creation: Sitting on his couch, phone in one hand and fourth whiskey glass in the other, tipping tipping _tipping _towards the edge. He almost gives in several times and just calls Neil on the phone, but he’s too begrudgingly terrified of what might change if he falls off that cliff. He doesn’t let himself fantasize about Neil hardly ever, but Andrew’s favorite daydream is the image of Neil doing the same thing, sitting on the couch and deciding whether or not to be the first one to give in.____

_____ _

_____ _

They had exchanged phone numbers a few weeks ago to help coordinate meet-up times, but so far neither of them have messaged a single thing. Andrew likes to fool himself into believing it’s just another product of precedence, but what if Neil really doesn’t care? He’s told Andrew before about how he’s only been ever attracted to Andrew, but that doesn’t mean he’s interested in anything beyond sex. Maybe now that Neil; has found someone to explore things with, he just wants to keep it that way. Maybe he doesn’t care about Andrew enough. Maybe Andrew cares about him too much.

The fact of the matter is, Andrew has feelings for Neil. He doesn’t have a frame of reference to identify them with, but they’re the kind of feelings that set his heart beating faster when Neil’s around, twist his insides into pretzels when Neil laughs at his dry humor, ignite an inferno in his chest when Neil kisses him. So yes, Andrew definitely has feelings. But does Neil?

It’s like Schrödinger’s Cat; If you open the box, you’ll find that the cat is either dead or alive. But as long as you keep the box closed, then the cat is both dead _and _alive at the same time because you don’t know the actual truth of what’s inside. Andrew could just ask Neil where they stand with each other, but Andrew’s not sure if he wants to hear the answer. What if Neil rejects him? As cliched as it sounds, Andrew doesn’t think he could handle that. Neil is the first person that Andrew had made a place for in his life after finding Nicky and Aaron. Andrew can’t imagine losing that.__

____

____

So he’ll keep his thoughts to himself and lock the box tighter.

**JULY ******

********

****

********

Fate is a tricky bitch.

Coincidence is a sadistic bastard.

And Andrew is damn fool for not seeing this coming.

When Renee asked him four weeks ago to be her plus one at her friend’s wedding so she didn’t have to go alone, of course Andrew said yes. That’s what best friends do. They would never be in a reverse situation, but if they were, Andrew knows Renee would do the same. And when the two of them drove the eight hour trip to Anna Maria Island for the destination wedding, he didn’t think anything of it. Even when they walked up the front steps of the church, Andrew hadn’t felt anything other than his usual disdain for Catholic establishments.

But he really should have known something like this would happen. Something like seeing none other than Neil talking to an older couple sitting in the front pew.

Honestly, what are the odds.

Neil’s eyes immediately pick Andrew out among the people filing into the church like he has a sixth sense or something. They both freeze and stare each other down in blatant surprise until Renee gently nudges Andrew to keep moving down the aisle. He slips into the pew she indicates and determinedly ignores her subtle attempts at asking who the man with the red hair is. The atmosphere feels strangely charged all of a sudden, like a storm is steadily brewing over head, and any minute now the stained glass windows will shatter and rain down in rainbow shards all around them. That would probably be the only thing that could tear his eyes away from Neil.

The groom comes out, and Andrew instantly recognizes him as Matt from all of the photos in Neil’s apartment. He walks right up to Neil and engulf him in a ferocious bear hug, actually lifting Neil’s feet off the ground before setting him back down and laughing. Andrew tampers down the strange surge of jealousy and longing that blooms in his gut.

The wedding goes off without a hitch. Renee is smiling broadly beside him throughout the whole ceremony, but Andrew is staring at Neil the entire time. He looks gorgeous in his suit, standing off to the side with the other groomsmen. Andrew wishes he could rip it off immediately.

And he does later that night, after Neil brings him a piece of cake at the reception, after he orders Neil a Screwdriver at the bar for old time’s sake, after he tells Neil his room number at the hotel everyone is staying in down the street.

Yeah, Neil looks great in a suit. But he looks better out of it in Andrew’s opinion.

But he looks best when he’s smiling. Smiling at the startled look on Andrew’s face when he brings over a slice of cake. Smiling at the way his best friends glide across the room gracefully in their first dance as a married couple. Smiling at the story Renee tells him about the time Andrew nursed a stray cat back to health before giving it his neighbor to keep her company after her husband died the week before.

Perhaps it’s the sheer over abundance of Neil-time he’s had today, but Andrew realizes that he needs to do something. No, he _wants _to do something. He wants to see that smile more than twice a week. He wants to wake up to that smile and see it directed at him in the early morning light.__

__So when Neil inevitably tries to gather his clothes after they’ve both come more than once, Andrew knows that he needs to say something._ _

____

____

“Do you like waffles?”

Wow okay. Not exactly what he meant to say, but it does succeed in stopping Neil in his tracks. He pauses the hunt for his suit jacket and flashes Andrew a quizzical look. “Yes? Although I like pancakes more because you can fruit in them. Why?”

Andrew panics for a split second before he decides to just bite the bullet. “They don’t offer a continental breakfast here, but there’s a Waffle House around the corner. Do you want to get breakfast tomorrow?”

“Like, together?” Neil asks. When Andrew nods, his lips curl up into one of those stunning smiles. “Alright. Yeah, that sounds great. What time do you want to meet up?”

_Now is the moment of truth. _“We could decide in the morning, if you want to stay.”__

____

____

Between his ever-widening grin and the flush creeping up his neck, Neil honest to god _glows _in the dim lighting of the hotel room. “Okay.” Then he drops the shirt he’s holding and climbs back under the covers, immediately pressing their bodies against each other and nuzzling his face into the crook of Andrew’s neck.__

____

____

As Neil’s breathing evens out beside him, Andrew realizes that he just opened the fucking box. And the cat sounds pretty damn alive.

**Author's Note:**

> Also thanks for inspiring a newfound love for Alex Turner ;)


End file.
